Familiar Voices with Strangers' Faces
by nodumbbitch
Summary: When a plane flies over the island, is it possible that the survivors can become even more endangered? Post What Kate Did.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I own no part of Lost, nor do I own any of the lyrics from the title. I also do not claim to understand everything about Lost, as I have missed several season 1 episodes._

**Familiar Voices with Strangers' Faces**

_---One---_

Kate stared into the fire. It had only hit her recently how such a small discovery created such a massive impact on the historical scale. The sand beneath her was warm from the fire's welcoming glow, and she felt safe. Which was strange - she was stuck on an island with hundreds of dangers, many unknown, and she was calm. She could feel her lids getting heavier and heavier, rocks above the shallow waters of her eyes. They were going to fall, going to ripple the surface into deep sleep - calm and warm by the fire. But she shook it out of her limbs - this infection people called sleep. She hadn't slept in days, and it was beginning to catch up to her. She felt cool sand hit her back and her the swooshing footsteps of someone walking up behind her. Sawyer plopped down beside her in the warmer, fiery sand, and smirked all-knowingly at her. "You could use some shut-eye," he crooned, and she smiled weakly.

"I could," she muttered to herself, placing her head on Sawyer's shoulder. This stirred up so many emotions for her. He was evil, and wrong, and she was falling for him. She felt it deep in her heart, blazing like the fire before her, she knew. He wasn't entirely oblivious, either. However, when her head hit his shoulder, her unwashed, raggedy hair falling over his chest, he winced. She knew it wasn't from the bullet in his shoulder. But she could feel the toxins of sleep rushing through her bloodstream again, and Sawyer here was pushing it on her. He was warm, the fire was warm. It seemed like the night would be cradling her forever. She could hear Claire cooing gently to Aaron, who was in her arms. Kate knew that Charlie was nearby, keeping a watchful eye over the mother and son. She could feel Jin and Sun wrapped in each other's arms as they slept, the warmth of their love for each other. She wished she could find that.

And she could feel Jack's lips on hers - lingering there. She did everything she could have to get rid of the stains they'd left. She knew in her heart of hearts that he was reacting the same way to her kiss - trying to erase it. The truth was, she had needed that for the longest time, and so had he. It didn't matter what feelings she had for Sawyer - her feelings for Jack were deeper, more thorough, more wrong. She was going crazy, and the only thing she could do was close the distance between her and Jack. And she only happened that this wouldn't happen the way it happened between Sayid and Shannon. She wished she'd gone to Shannon's funeral.

Caught up in the thralls of her thoughts, all motion left Kate's body. Sawyer had wrapped and arm around her waist, and she buried her cheek deeper into his shoulder, smelling the sweat and blood of his toils - the might, the fury. Intoxicated, she felt herself leave her body, and she was looking down at herself in Sawyer's hold. She didn't want him to let go. He didn't ant to let go. He let his head fall on hers as they slept, basking in the fire.

Kate woke slowly, blinking salt out of her eyes. Had she been crying? The sun was coming up over the horizon, casting an eerie light over the camp. Everything was quiet and calm, like maybe things weren't so bad. And then the reality hit her. She had dug herself a little crevice in the sand, cool and warm at the same time. Sawyer was no longer nearby, but on the other side of the fire. The glowing embers and the waking glimmer of the sun on the horizon played against the contours of his face in a way that scared Kate. She sat up slowly, taking a deep breath and trying to comb all of the sand out of her hair. She yawned and looked about the camp. Some people were stirring, but it was caught in a haze of light sleep. As she reached full-sitting position, Sawyer smiled at her over the dying flames of the fire. She smiled back and blinked several times. She looked out at the ocean, which was luminescent with dawn. The salty breeze was refreshing - every time she was down in the hatch, she missed the salt air.

She saw Jack emerging from the woods and stood up hastily. He smiled awkwardly at her, and began to change direction. Kate looked back at Sawyer and scrambled across the beach to reach Jack, who was walking down in the other direction. There was a cloud of sand rolling along behind her, and she felt like Roadrunner. "Jack wait," she said hastily as she caght up to him. Before his pace had been leisurely, and now it was brisk and speedy. "Jack." She put her hand on his shoulder and turned him to face her.

"Kate," he replied, deadpan, avoiding eye contact. "Morning." He turned and continued his walk, although at a much slower pace, allowing Kate to walk alongside him. She clutched one of her arms with her other hands, clamping the arm attached to said hand against her stomach. She didn't know what to say or how to say it. "You slept?"

"Yes. Well, too. Sand is a surprisingly comfortable bed." There was more silence as the two walked down the beach. Kate wasn't wearing shoes, and the sand crawled beneath her toes. Jack stopped and looked out at the horizon. Kate turned to look out at the horizon with him. There was a dot far in the distance. Kate had no idea what it was, but she had a false hope that it would be a plane. Rescue. Although she knew as soon as they were rescued, she'd be put on trial and sent to jail. So despite the dangers of the island, at that moment, she was glad that rescue seemed so far away.

Jack thought differently. Though he too had the false hope of a rescue plane, he knew that the dangers of the island were increasing with the mysteries. He could feel something welling up in every niche and nook and hole on the rock. It made him feel sick to his stomach - something that Kate helped heal over. Which made him feel even worse: he had allowed her to kiss him. He had wanted it just as much as she had, if not moreso. He couldn't help but feel a combination of cold and hot, which didn't quite add up to lukewarm. "I'm sorry," Kate muttered, averting her eyes from Jack's gaze. He didn't turn to her, like she thought he would. He just stared into the horizon. "I... I shouldn't have... done it. I was going crazy."

"So you said."

"Well, I'm sorry," she repeated, a bit louder and more finalized. Jack grunted in recognition and fought his desires to take her up in his arms again, to feel her again, to have that perfect ecstasy again. The sun continued creeping up over the horizon, and enblazened in the massive red ball was the vision of Kate and Sawyer sleeping by the fire - together. Tangled. He had a feeling he was her second man on this isle - that Kate would never look up at him like he looked at her. That kind of gaze was reserved for Sawyer. For that, his contempt for Sawyer boiled in his chest for possibly the hundredth time, and it was almost more heated than ever before. "Are you going to say anything?" Kate asked, earnestly trying to get something out of him. It was tearing him up inside, not talking to her, but he couldn't. Not now.

Kate walked away, back towards the fire, and saw several people working around it to get it flaming again. Suddenly her perfect calamity was becoming less perfect, and she sunk into that shallow feeling you get when you know everything's going to go wrong.

Around midday, Aaron was getting fussy - beyond fussy, actually, and Claire had to admit that Charlie knew what he was doing with Aaron. She watched as he cooed gently to her baby and rocked him back and forth. Charlie was like a father to Aaron, which was both intriguing to Claire and annoying. Somedays she wanted to thank him beyond measure and some days she wanted to slap him. A loud sound came from overhead, though distant. Everybody hanging around camp looked up at the sky. There was something there.

The familiar sound of jet engines greeted the survivors, and they began cheering and running to the beach. Many people picked up flaming sticks from the fire and began waving them in the air to attract attention. The plane was sleek and white, and flying dangerously low. It almost grazed the top of the trees on the island as it flew by. Then people noticed what was wrong with the whiteness of the bird - it was going up in flames. Something was dropped into the water and made a huge splash a few hundred yards off the coast of the island, and the plane exploded about a mile away. Everyone held their breath, staring at the lost hope - the lingering smoke and pieces of the ship were drifting away. But everyone was trying to figure out what had been dropped. It was floating in the distance. Several people jumped into the water to retrieve it. Charlie held Aaron tightly to him, and Claire unwittingly grasped his hand as they made their way to the beach. At the water's edge, Jack, Jin, Kate, and several others were hauling a box onto the soaked sand. It was about six feet long, made of wood, with a huge cross nailed on the top.

They pushed it up out of the way of the waves, everybody completely soaked. Jack and Kate were leaning on each other, breathing hard, and Sun ran over to Jin's side. "Does anybody have a way to open this thing?" Jack called. Someone appeared with a long, sharpened stick. "What do you think it is?" Kate asked quietly. Jack gave her a look.

"It's a coffin," somebody said off in the crowd. Ana Lucia appeared at Jack's side and looked at it. "Should we even open it?"

"It's a coffin... but does that necissarily mean there's a body?" Kate asked. Ana Lucia gave her a look, and Jack took the sharpened stick in hand, jamming it into the crack between the lid of the coffin and the body. It lifted up, and everyone's eyes widened and gasps were scattered throughout the mass of people. A young woman with shining red hair down to her waist was laying inside the coffin, donning a torn-up white wedding dress. She had a dying rose in her hands, encompased by a necklace with a crucifix pendant. Perhaps the most shocking thing of all was the steak knife stick out of her shoulder, with a sub-par blood-mopping job surrounding it. The dress was stained red all around the wound. Jack leaned in, brushing his fingers against the knife.

Her eyes opened so suddenly, she gasped so suddenly, and she bolted away so suddenly, nobody had any chance to react.

* * *

Six figures enter - they've come to destroy the world. They've called together this storm almost every night.  
(I awake in another place) A familiar voice with a stranger's face speaks more unheard words.  
What new friends will the day bring? One for one-thousand acquainted?  
What new hope will the night bring? When it all comes down, you just throw the bones...  
(On the way) I saw five hours of sleep, but your fire makes it all worth while  
(On the way) I wrote words for you to keep, on the way...  
I saw myself, I lost myself along the way, and you will find me...  
--AFI, "6 to 8"


	2. Chapter 2

_---Two---_

"What the hell just happened?" Kate found herself asking, as everyone stood, shocked and staring at the woman's footprints in the ransacked sand. Jack was still bent over the coffin, looking inside. The woman had dropped her necklace in her haste. He picked it up carefully, cautiously, trying to figure everything out. That plane could've been the one to save them. And now its wreckage would be washing up on shore.

"We have to go after her," Michael said. "She could be dangerous," someone else pointed out. There were murmurs in the crowd of agreement and disagreement. Kate turned to Jack, hoping that he would reassure someone about what was going to happen. His face told her nothing.

"I'll go," Kate said, stepping up to the plate. "A few others can spread out and help me look, broaden the area."

A few scattered "I'll do it"s and "I'll help"s came from the small crowd. Kate nodded. "Then let's go." As the tiny group began making their way up the beach towards the forest, Jack stood up. "Wait," he called out. Kate stopped and looked back. "Be careful. If you find her, tell her not to take that knife out yet. She's probably suffering from post-traumatic shock, so just… help her through it as much as possible." Kate nodded back and continued trekking to the brush.

"I'll keep going in this direction, the rest of you split up. We'll cover more space," Kate directed to her small band of rescuers. Inside the woods, it seemed darker and more foreboding than it ever had before, though only for a split second. After a few minutes, Kate noticed some footprints in the moist sand. The impressions weren't too deep, meaning that the woman was no longer running. Kate paused to look over the small trail the woman had created in the damp earth.

Back on the beach, Charlie continued fussing over Aaron as Claire stood in the break of the water. Charlie didn't pay much attention to what Claire was doing, but she was completely lost in thought, letting the salty sting touch her skin as the waves washed over her feet and legs. She just stared into the horizon, arms at her sides. The wind blew them slightly. "Elsie…" she muttered to herself before turning back to Charlie and Aaron, smiling at her son.

Kate continued following the path, being sure not to step on any of the footprints. She had noticed that the woman wasn't wearing shoes when she was in the coffin, and the feet that had been running through here were barefoot, but she was starting to wonder whether or not these were the woman's. She stopped to ponder this idea, and sat down on a rock. There were vines and bamboo all around her, and the ground was soggy and spongy. She looked over the footsteps and noticed that they stopped and doubled back. Kate muttered a curse under her breath. The woman knew she was being followed and had gone in the same direction that she had come.

Kate jumped up and sprinted down the new path. She saw figures on the beach, and looked down. The footprints had ended quite some time ago. She muttered another curse under her breath, but paused. She heard rustling coming from the small thicket of brush behind her. She tried not to breathe as she turned around. Hidden behind fauna, Kate spotted a body of white, moving slowly, trying to hide.

"It's alright. I'm not going to hurt you," she said into the vastness. The woman perked up and shifted behind flora again. "I'm Kate. I promise, I won't hurt you. No-one will, as long as you come out. We can help you." The woman did not react, but shifted again. For some reason, her figure seemed so blurry that Kate could barely make her out. "I'm not entire sure how to address you." Still, silence. "Do you speak English? Miss…" Kate was cut off as the woman charged her, knife swinging. She uttered a bestial cry and she swung the knife in front of her, forcing Kate out of the forest and onto the sand. Kate dodged a few of the woman's crazed swings, but her final one grazed her neck. Blood bubbled on her throat, and Kate raised her hand in disbelief. The woman shied away at the sight of blood, and turned straight into Jack, who hit her out cold. She thumped heavily on the ground, sending up a cloud of sand. Jack and several others rushed over to help Kate.

"Kate, can you hear me?" he asked desperately. She nodded slightly. She'd fallen on her back, and she was staring up into the sky, blinking slowly. It was as if she wasn't there as her eyes glazed over and she passed out. "Someone tie that woman up! And for Chrissakes, help me!" He kept Kate's hand pressed to her wound as he tried to lift her up. Charlie rushed over with Michael, makeshift rope in hand, and they bound the woman's legs and feet together, then they used the remaining rope to tie her abdomen around the nearest tree.

Claire watched the ordeal from a distance, biting her fingernails.

Jack laid Kate down and got out the remaining sewing kit. It was time to return the favour that she had granted him that first day on the island. He quickly sewed up the small gash against her throat, and was constantly checking her pulse. She hadn't lost too much blood, which was surprising for a slit throat. Kate had passed out, less from the pain and more from the shock and blood loss. Jack knew that she would have a hell of a scar, though. He didn't want anything bad to happen to her. It was just a thought he'd been having ever since that first encounter. And he knew that it wasn't worth anything, especially since they had survived a plane crash, and hadn't had any help for almost 50 days.

Even after Kate had woken up, the strange woman still hadn't. Her white dress had stains of every colour you could imagine. Kate said that she must've tripped every now and then in the forest, as she had seen skid marks in the soil. There were spots of brown, red, green, grey. The hem was ratty and dirt-soaked. There were tears in the bodice, and a trail of red going from just under where the knife had been all the way down her waist. Her eyes looked bruised as they frantically searched for a way to open. Sayid had been called up, and he just stood there staring at her. Jack made his way over to him and the tied up, sleeping woman.

"I'm surprised you could bring yourself away from Kate's side," Sayid said teasingly to Jack. "This woman looks so… broken."

"She must've been in a death-like state for at least a day," Jack said, sitting down to examine her. "She's got bruises everywhere – arms, legs, chest. You gotta wonder, what the hell happened to her?"

Sayid moved behind Jack to pick up a water bottle. "Well, I guess it's time to find out," he said, tossing some of the cold water onto the woman's face. She woke with a start, gasping and sputtering. There was dried blood at the corners of her mouth, Jack saw now. She began struggling tirelessly against the ropes, screaming in a stream of gibberish at Jack and Sayid. Sayid held her shoulders down against the tree. "Who are you?" he yelled into her face." She stopped, calm. She laughed twice and the rolled her neck back to stare down Sayid.

"I'm God," she giggled.


End file.
